


Jenga

by ArcticMel



Series: Why Thursday Night Isn't Board Game Night [2]
Category: Marvel (Movies), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Gen, M/M, Team
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-21
Updated: 2013-04-21
Packaged: 2017-12-09 03:38:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/769535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArcticMel/pseuds/ArcticMel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe there was more to this team building thing than Clint thought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jenga

**Author's Note:**

> This picks up at the end of 'Monopoly'. 
> 
> Thanks to [Jadesymb](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Jadesymb) and [BrassLizard](http://brasslizard.tumblr.com/) for their invaluable edits and for continuing to push me out of my comfort zone.

 

How anyone thought the team building Monopoly game had gone well was beyond Clint’s comprehension.  

Tony had left fuming but Steve had gone after him with a grin of satisfaction and a proverbial spring in his step.  Clint was baffled by the super-soldier's reaction.  The group had only recently moved into Stark Tower and, while Captain America had trusted Clint in the aftermath of Loki with only Nat’s assurance, the archer had just begun to learn about the man behind the shield.  An ingrained compulsion to understand and predict the behaviors of enemies and allies forced him to abandon the remainder of the evening with the others in order to follow Steve.

As Clint ghosted toward the end of the air vent that lead into the kitchen, he heard Tony’s voice, raised in frustration.

“Well, your definition of success is old school.”

“Tony,” Steve said softly, “I know you saw it too.”  Clint heard the grin in Steve’s voice as he continued, “You’re just being difficult because _someone_ beat you.”

"Clearly, I should have vetted everyone for gaming skills before we started your misguided attempt at team building.  JARVIS, I need to create a form-”

“Tony-!”

Clint peered out through the grate and saw Tony, head down, leaning forward, with both hands spread wide against the granite counter top of the island.  The archer watched as Steve quietly stepped in behind the other man and slid his arms around the engineer’s waist.  Tony’s shoulders relaxed slightly as he let out a huff of air.  

Clint grinned.

Tony leaned back into the super-soldier, scarred hands covered smooth, “Yeah,” he said softly, “I saw it.  Go team.”

“I'll play again.  But,” he continued, sternly, face tipped up to meet the taller man’s blue eyes, “I demand that you select a game no one in this motley crew has ever played before.   _Especially_ you.”

Steve leaned down to kiss Tony softly, and tightened the embrace.  “Yes, sir,” he murmured against Tony’s lips.

Suddenly Clint felt a little too much like he was intruding and turned to move back down the vent when JARVIS’ voice came from the kitchen.

“Sir, Dummy has trapped one of the Roombas in the recycle bin.”

Tony buried his face in Steve’s shoulder and groaned in frustration.  “I’ll handle it,” he sighed, pulled away with fingers still intertwined, and offered his partner an apologetic grin.

“Don’t worry,” said Steve, as they parted, ”I’ll make us some sandwiches while you’re gone.”

“Oh, and,” said Tony, innocently, while he walked backwards toward the doorway, “did I mention there are some additional, um, personal requests as a condition of my continued participation?  I’ll be sure to fill you in on those later..."

Clint watched as Steve smiled and shook his head when Tony turned away.  

“JARVIS?” Steve unconsciously addressed the ceiling, “Could you please assist me in finding a board game that will meet Tony’s approval?”

Frustrated that the only information he had gained was the depth of Steve’s affection for Tony, Clint left the air vent.

******

Steve had apparently settled on a tournament of Jenga.  When Thursday rolled around, Clint, somewhat grudgingly, strolled into the common living room where the game and the team had been assembled.  Clint listened to Cap explain the rules.  It all seemed simple enough; which invariably meant trouble.

After Clint surveyed the wooden tower from various locations around the room, he decided to lie on his back, in front of the table, to start the game.  Hands laced comfortably behind his head, he settled into the plush carpeting.

“Ummm...?” Bruce questioned the archer.

Clint glanced back to where Bruce stood,behind the couch beyond the table.  “Hey, the best angles aren’t _always_ from above,” he replied smugly and waggled both eyebrows.  He was rewarded with a smirk from Bruce, just before Steve stepped between them to remove a block from the tower.

Thor, pleased by the successful opening move from Steve, enthusiastically clapped Bruce on the shoulder.  The doctor, unprepared for Thor’s reaction, bobbled his mug of tea.  Off balance, he tipped forward against the back of the couch as the warm liquid spilled on his hands and shirtfront and then down onto the shoulder of Tony, seated below him.  

"Damn it!” Tony swore and quickly shifted forward.  He banged his knees into the coffee table and the force of the impact caused the block tower to waver, then collapse.  

Clint deftly rolled out of the way,just in time to evade the cascade of wood.  

There was a beat of silence as all heads turned toward the Asgardian.

“I ask your forgiveness, my friends.  This 'Jenga' is a game worthy of true warriors.  I see now, it requires a mild temperament and the intricate balance of mind and body; traits I fear I had not fully appreciated in my youth.  I shall redouble my efforts to master them,” said Thor, blonde head dipped down apologetically.

Tony rubbed at his knees as he directed his exasperated sigh toward the ceiling, bit his bottom lip, and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment.  He inhaled deeply and rose from the couch.  

“Come on, Banner.  You don’t want to see me when I’m soggy and angry,” Tony quipped as he started toward the elevator, peeling his black Metallica t-shirt off as he walked.  Clint smothered a chuckle at Steve’s ogling of Tony’s casual strip saunter.

In acceptance of Thor's apology, Bruce tipped his chin down slightly with a tiny smile, then trailed after Tony, in search of dry clothes.

“I want the Asgardian Rube Goldberg of Jenga banished from my tower by the time I get back,” Tony said calmly, as the elevator door closed on the scientists.

Thor’s face fell, but Coulson was moving before Clint had a chance to react.  

"Stark didn’t mean it, Thor.  You are an invaluable member of the team.  He just gets overly protective about his t-shirts, that’s all,” said Coulson, as he placed a reassuring hand on Thor’s shoulder.

“You know,” mused Clint, ”I was promised a board game.  I see no boards of any kind..."

A ghost of a smile crossed Natasha's face, however Coulson's pointed glare caused Clint to pause as he heard a soft sigh from Steve.

Clint realized that this evening had not exactly gone well so far and his off-hand comment had probably not helped the situation.  Ready to apologize, the archer looked back at the super-soldier and expected to see disappointment in those blue eyes.  Instead, he was surprised by the satisfied grin Steve tried to hide behind the tower he was reassembling.  

In that moment, Clint's perspective shifted.  Game night became more than just another mission to be successfully completed.  He now thought he saw what Tony and Steve had argued about last week.  

It wasn't the outcome of the game that mattered.  

They just needed to get somewhere, anywhere, together.

******

Once the game restarted, Thor's luck did not improve.  Despite his best efforts, the demigod’s large hands and overzealous approach did not lend well to Jenga.  He was quickly relegated to the position of crestfallen spectator.  

Clint took pity on the now abnormally-subdued warrior and applied his stealthful texting skills to arrange for Thor to be lured away by Jane.  He immediately received a positive reply and, not long after, Jane appeared in the doorway.  Initially pleased with his plan, Clint was slightly frustrated, but warmed, when he realized that Thor's sense of loyalty was one of the only things that could override his all-consuming devotion to Jane.

"My dearest Lady Jane, I cannot abandon my fellow warriors before our task is completed," Thor explained after the dark-haired scientist had whispered her plans in his ear.

"Thor," said Steve, "your efforts tonight have honored the team.  You have our blessing to spend time with Jane."  In search of support, the super-soldier nudged Tony with an elbow.

"Hmm?" said Tony, distractedly, as he glanced up at Steve.  "Oh.  Yes.  Right.  Thor, you've earned the rest of the night off, buddy.  You two go enjoy some stacking activities of your own."

"If you are certain...?" said Thor, still not entirely convinced.

"Go ahead," said Coulson.  

The agent's assurance seemed to be what Thor needed to hear.  "Thank you, my friends.  I look forward to our next valiant encounter with this fascinating Midgardian ritual."

As Thor and Jane left, Clint felt Steve squeeze his shoulder in a brief gesture of thanks as he returned to his seat.  The archer glanced up and saw Coulson hide a grin behind his tablet.  

Clint sighed.  He had anticipated a short game tonight and had made, as Tony had so eloquently put it, 'stacking plans' with Phil.  Unfortunately, after an hour of playing the same tower, it was clear that neither JARVIS nor Steve had fully taken into account the above average dexterity of this particular group.  Eventually though, the other Avengers claimed seats around the living room as they were eliminated from the tournament.  Clint's mood improved when he realized that his superb spatial orientation skills and Natasha’s nimble and deadly fingers were all that remained.  

He exchanged a quick glance with Natasha; a silent acknowledgement that the rules had now changed.  

******

“Ha!” exclaimed Clint triumphantly, as he knocked a piece out while he leaned forward precariously from his perch on top of the couch.  “All yours, Madam,” he said, as he hopped down, replaced the block, bowed slightly at the waist, and made a wide sweeping gesture toward the table.

Natasha raised an eyebrow and granted her competitor a faint smile.  As she turned away from Clint, she asked, “Captain, would you be so kind?” and motioned for Steve to stand.  

“Certainly,” replied Steve.  He rose from his favorite plush armchair at the end of the table.

The archer had initially worried that, despite Steve's zen reaction to the earlier chaos, he would protest their 'modifications' to the rules, but Clint was pleasantly surprised when he and Natasha were allowed to play on without comment from the rest of the team.

Natasha eyed the distance between Steve and the tower, and moved him forward slightly with a hand on the small of his back.  “If you would raise your left arm straight in front of you, please.  Now, grip my left wrist.  Perfect.  Don’t move.”  Natasha placed the slender arch of her left foot across the super-soldier's muscular left thigh and fully extended her leg, arm, and back.  Steve slowly leaned backward and acted as a counterbalance, while Natasha stretched forward toward the tower.  Her elegant form flowed easily into his serum-enhanced physique.  Clint thought the two embodied a moment out of a modern dance performance.  

Natasha deftly slid out a wooden block, placed it on top, and gracefully dismounted from Steve.  “Thanks,” she said to him with a wink.

“No problem,” replied Steve, as he reclaimed his seat, a slight flush on his cheeks and the tips of his ears.  

Tony burst into applause.  “Oh, Cap," he said, with a wicked grin, "we are definitely going to try _that_ tonight."  Steve’s blush deepened and he promptly threw a pillow at his boyfriend’s head.

Clint sent an affectionate smirk in Tony’s direction before he gathered his focus.  “Okay...” the archer said slowly, expression thoughtful.  He flicked his eyes up at the massive wrought iron chandelier that hung above them.  

“No!” Tony said as he jumped up from the couch and waggled a finger at the archer.  “Don’t even think about it, Katniss.  I refer you back to rule number one of board game night: No breaking, disassembling or modifying of the furniture or anything else in this room.  Unless it’s by me.”

“Fine,” Clint grumbled and raised both hands in defeat, “but I’m hungry and this game is taking too long.”  There was a slight whine to his voice and he glanced back to the loveseat where Coulson continued to work away on his tablet.   

“Yes, yes,” said Tony, “I know you have better things to do with Agent over there but you cannot use my living room as a jungle gym.  I have entire floors designed to safely withstand assassin Twister, chandelier-free.”

Clint rolled his eyes at Tony.  Turned away from the table, eyes locked on the billionaire, Clint reached back and pushed a block out of the tower with his index finger and added it to the top of the stack.  Clint then redirected his glare to Natasha and stepped away from the game.

As Natasha contemplated her next move, Clint glanced back again toward the loveseat.  Coulson offered Clint a small sympathetic and apologetic smile.  Clint knew Coulson would never disappoint Steve by ending the game early and there was no way Natasha was going to unnecessarily admit defeat.  A truce was also definitely out of the question.  Seeing the warmth and sparkle in Phil’s eyes caused Clint’s mind to wander back to last night; the feel of Phil’s strong hands caressing Clint’s bare thighs, soft lips brushing across each scar on his torso, warm breath ghosting across his cheek as Phil whispered his name in the heat of passion.  

Coulson held Clint’s gaze.  Phil watched his lover’s expression evolve from frustration to longing, tumble into lust, refocus through a moment of realization, and then shift into something just a tiny bit maniacal.  Coulson’s eyes widened as a wicked grin settled on Clint’s face.  Phil mouthed the word ‘No’ and glared sternly at his partner.  Coulson was not sure exactly what Clint had planned but his long relationship with the archer taught him that when Clint neglected to think things through, it all was going to end in chaos.

Phil surveyed the room.  No one seemed to have noticed their exchange.  The others were focused on the redhead and Natasha’s back had been to Coulson and Clint while she positioned herself into a one-handed handstand on the corner of the coffee table.  As she slid a piece out from the wooden tower, Coulson watched, resigned, while Clint slowly reached forward and very, very lightly, touched the side seam of Natasha’s black t-shirt with his index finger.  Natasha’s eyes snapped up to him, a threatening smirk danced across her face; the promise of retribution for Clint’s blatant disregard of the rules.

Coulson’s eyes snapped closed and the remaining men in the room froze.  Clint burst into action, leapt over the couch with one hand, and sprinted flat out for the stairwell.  Natasha, unphased, calmly placed her block on the top of the tower.  In one fluid motion, she flipped to her feet, bounded over the couch and dashed after Clint, sliding sideways through the closing stairwell door just before it slammed shut.

“Well,” said Tony, slightly dazed, “that was unexpected.”

Steve shook his head with a grin and leaned down to disassemble the tower.  

Coulson sighed deeply as he mourned the loss of an evening with Clint, and settled back into the loveseat.

Warm, unbridled laughter emanated from an armchair in the back of the room.  Coulson smiled at the rare sound and saw his expression mirrored on the faces of Tony and Steve.  

Phil turned a thoughtful gaze toward Bruce, who worked to get his laughter under control as he brushed at his eyes with the sleeve of his blue button down.  The scientist had been especially pensive lately and Coulson had become concerned, even though Bruce had readily agreed to participate again in board game night.  In the short time since the battle with Loki, Phil and the rest of the team had learned that a joyful Bruce Banner was a treat worth repeating.

Bruce rose from his chair once his laughter had condensed down into a grin.  Phil watched, pleased, as the doctor replaced his glasses, raised a hand to bid goodnight to the other men, and strolled off toward the elevator.

The corner of Phil’s mouth turned up as he saw Tony bend down and set a hand on Steve’s shoulder.  “Okay,” said Tony, softly, as he placed a chaste kiss on Steve’s cheek, “maybe board game night isn’t all bad.  Third time’s the charm?”

 


End file.
